I thought about him the whole way home... the things he said, the way he looked. I hated him. I truly hated him for what he did to me, but dammit, I still wanted him, and that pissed me off more than anything.

I changed into my pajamas and grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass from the kitchen, and headed out to the balcony. It was a cool night, and I had a great view and a comfortable chair. I needed to be alone with my thoughts.

I slowly sipped my wine, looking at the city through the balcony railing.

The more I thought about that night, the more I wondered about the part I played. Shouldn't I have seen this coming? Shouldn't I have realized what was going on? I felt like the entire incident was my fault. That I was somehow responsible.

How could I have allowed it to happen? I must've been blind to everything else because I was so attracted to him from the minute I first saw him. I wanted it to happen, I wanted someone to make me feel the way he made me feel.

I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Edward was fairly well-known in town. Once the news came out that he was involved in something like this, he would be ruined. Did he not think it would come out?

But he was an actor, and he could make you believe whatever he wanted you to believe, which is why I believed him.

I was thinking in circles, half a bottle of wine gone, and all I could think of was the taste of him in my mouth, the feel of his hard, hot skin on my tongue, and the sounds he made while I was on my knees for him.

We were having a glass of wine on the balcony, a brief respite from the sexual carnage that had made up the evening so far.

After he went down on me on the dining room table, and gave me the longest orgasm of my life, he fucked me, hard, just like I wanted, and made me come two more times.

After that, I needed a break.

I mean, Jesus, I was considerably older than he was, and yes, I was in great shape, but I just couldn't handle a sex marathon with a twenty-something anymore. However, I was certainly not ready for the evening to end. All I needed was a little food, a little wine, and a few minutes. A breather.

So we grabbed robes from the bathroom, adjourned to the kitchen on my suggestion, and ravenously ate whatever we could find.

Fortunately, he had stocked the bar, and there were several decent bottles of wine to choose from. He opened one up and grabbed a couple of glasses and motioned for me to follow him. He pulled aside the drapes and slid open the large glass door leading to the balcony.

"Ladies, first," he said, that smooth, warm voice pouring all over me. My cheeks warmed instantly, and I grinned at him, unable to control my girlish responses around him, unless he was fucking me, and then girlish went out the window.

I walked outside and was struck by the beautiful nighttime view, all the lights of the city, a soft cool breeze.

It was perfect.

I stood at the railing and heard the clinking of the glasses and the bottle as he set them down on the glass-topped balcony table. And then, I felt him.

Behind me.

His hands slipping around my waist until he was wrapped around me. His face buried in my hair, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"It's beautiful," I said softly as I laid my hands on top of his, leaning back into him.

"You're beautiful," he replied, his lips brushing against my neck.

"Oh, God, Edward," I sighed. "That feels so good, but if you start that now, we'll never get to that bottle of wine."

He chuckled, a beautiful, deep sound. I thought he would keep going, no matter what I said, and I would cave, of course.

But he didn't.

He pulled away from me, but grabbed one of my hands and spun me slowly around so that he could pull me towards the table.

He opened the bottle and poured us each a generous, full glass.

The view was beautiful, and I wanted to enjoy it, so I went back to the railing and stood, slowly sipping my wine, enjoying the moment. He joined me, standing beside me, and we made easy small talk, slowly emptying the bottle.

His hand was on top of mine on the railing, and he rubbed his thumb absently against my skin, slowly, softly. I was starting to zone out on what he was saying, and all I could think about was his thumb moving on my skin, and how good it felt. I ran my tongue across my lips, tasting the sweetness of the wine, but also tasting what we had done that night, tasting him. I started to think that I wanted to resume the marathon.

Yes, this is the beginning of laundry list #4, the balcony. The next chapter continues with the same scene, then back to plot.

Here's how the rest of the story lays out - I know y'all want to know what happens and WHEN you're gonna know, but I can't give it all away. I think the suspense makes it more fun... right? HA!

22 - balcony, part 2, plus some plot

23 - cop stuff, the beginning of the wrap up of the plot

24 - SMUT

25 - SMUT, part 2

26 - SMUT, wrap up, and more plot

27 - cop stuff, freight train of plot

28 - cop stuff, wait... WHAT?

29 - cop stuff - and then you FINALLY find out what's been going on (sorry it took me until chapter 29)

30 - the finale, so to speak

And that's it! I hope that wasn't TOO much information. I wanted to answer as many questions as i could without giving anything away. I hope I was successful with that. :)

We are now in what we like to call "the third act." Hope you like it! Hang on tight! :)

All things "Twilight" belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)